u/enchantasea

Lately, I've realized how nice it would be to have a genuine friend to do life with. Right now, though, I'm also looking for someone who's down for a chill discord call, and talk about life until one of us gets sleepy.

In the long run, I'm hoping to find someone I can also meet up with from time to time for cafe study sessions, walks, food trips, spontaneous gala (after boards lang pwede), or simply to keep each other accountable while we work toward our goals.

About me:

• Reviewing for boards
• Aries, ENTJ-T
• Loves cafes, long walks, swimming, and trying new places
• Enjoys meaningful conversations, random chika, and listening just as much as talking

About you:

• Around 22 to 30 years old
• Respectful, emotionally mature, and easy to vibe with
• Please don't be a DDS, a Marcos apologist, or someone with questionable political views

If you're also feeling a little lonely tonight or just want some company, send me an intro about yourself, your discord username, and one random fun fact. If we click, maybe we can become constants instead of just passing conversations.

I just want to be loved. To be seen, understood, and cherished. I want someone who pours into me with the same care and devotion that I so freely give.

Lately, I wonder when I'm supposed to stop searching. At what point do I accept that maybe the kind of love I long for isn't meant for me?

I know I have so much love to give. I just wish, for once, someone would love me the way I love them.

To the stranger reading this, and to myself because I need this reminder just as much, please give yourself the chance to be loved by someone new.

I know it's tempting to look back, especially when the familiar comes knocking again. But why would we return to someone who had every opportunity to love us, yet still chose to let us go? Love shouldn't leave us begging to be chosen. It shouldn't leave us questioning whether we were ever enough.

Before you consider going back, remember everything it took for you to survive. Remember the nights you cried yourself to sleep, trying to comfort a heart that felt like it had nothing left. Remember the countless conversations with friends and family, hoping someone could make sense of what happened. Remember every moment you questioned your worth because someone else's inability to love you made you forget your own value.

Remember when you convinced yourself that you'd never find a love like that again.

Maybe that's exactly the point.

I hope we never find a love like that again.

I hope we find the kind of love that stays. The kind that chooses us wholeheartedly. The kind that brings peace instead of confusion, consistency instead of excuses, and reassurance instead of uncertainty. A love that never makes us wonder where we stand.

At the same time, if we were the ones who lied, cheated, manipulated, or hurt someone who genuinely loved us, then the responsibility is ours to change before asking for another chance. Love also requires accountability.

So, to anyone reading this, and to the future version of myself, don't let loneliness rewrite history. Missing someone doesn't erase the pain they caused, and nostalgia isn't proof that they were meant for you.

Be proud of the strength it took to rebuild yourself. If the person who once let you go ever comes back, I hope you've healed enough to remember that your peace was never something you found because of them. It was something you found after them.

Choose the love that chooses you the first time. And if that love hasn't found you yet, keep choosing yourself until it does.

I think what scared me the most wasn't you. It was the possibility of us. The thought of what could have happened if I had allowed myself to fully embrace what was already growing between us.

I had become so used to being overlooked, to quietly passing through people's lives without leaving much behind, that being truly seen felt unfamiliar. Almost overwhelming. When you looked at me the way you did, it felt like stepping out of a shadow I had lived in for far too long. Part of me longed for that warmth, but another part didn't know how to exist in it.

Your love was gentle in a way I never knew how to receive. You never asked me to be anyone other than myself. You never made me feel like I had to earn your affection or prove that I deserved it. You accepted me as I was, and somehow that was both the most comforting and the most frightening thing I had ever experienced.

What I never understood was how you couldn't see yourself the way I saw you. Your kindness, your quiet strength, and the way your smile could change the atmosphere of an entire room. Even the parts of you shaped by pain only made me admire you more. They reminded me of everything you had survived and of your remarkable ability to keep choosing kindness despite it all. You were never too much. If anything, you were always more than enough.

Maybe that's why I was so afraid. Loving someone like you meant facing something real. It meant allowing myself to believe that I could have something beautiful, and I wasn't sure I was brave enough for that.

I still miss you in ways I can't fully put into words. I still care about you more deeply than I've ever been able to admit. Sometimes I find myself wondering what our story would have looked like if I had been just a little less afraid, and a little more willing to believe that I deserved the love you were so freely giving.